


Hearts & Flowers

by RumbleFish14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Crushes, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Endgame, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Kissing, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Secret Relationship, Sweet, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 06:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Ian has been counting down the days until Mickey gets out of juvie and he doesn't realize it's his favorite holiday, a holiday for romantics like him; Valentine's Day and Ian may be in for a surprise of his own, but it may not be the one he hopes for





	Hearts & Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Set just after Frank catches them in the freezer at Kash & Grab & Mickey goes to juvie

Hearts & Flowers

Ah, Valentine’s Day…a day of love, sweets, family and a little bit of alcohol. Normal couples spent the weeks leading up to this 'magical' day, hunting for that perfect gift, the perfect place to eat in the perfect outfit to make their partner swoon at their feet like a Disney Fairy Tale.

Then the next day? It’s like nothing ever happened. There was no change. That 'magical' day was just that, a day. A normal every day, day. One made up by Hallmark to sell sweets and engagement rings to people who probably didn’t want or couldn’t afford either. The romance would be gone, like you had to show the world you loved your someone for one day, instead of every single day. 

It was madness. It was pointless and cheesy and every year, Ian Gallagher wanted it all. He wanted the butterflies in his belly from the hopes of that special date. Seeing his boyfriend all dolled up, wearing his best suit and tie with that musky smelling cologne that made him melt, the big bouquet of red roses with sweet words to make his heart pound as he picked him up in a fancy limo. Onto an expensive dinner where he was ogled like treasure and soft words of romance poured from his mouth. 

Those sweet kisses and batting eye lashes, holding hands and cuddling close as they walked out into the flurries of Chicago mid-winter. Then a night of romantic, passionate, love filled sex that would blow his mind until the next holiday. Ian wanted all those things. He wanted it like an alcoholic wanted beer or a smoker wanted a smoke, he needed it like the air to breathe. He just wanted the romance.

And today was that day. Valentine’s Day and Ian wasn’t even aware of it. He’d spent the better part of the week waiting to hear when Mickey would get out of Juvie. After threatening a few officers at The Alibi, just before he tried to kill Frank for catching them fucking in Kash & Grab, they hauled his ass off to juvie last month. Mickey had been set to get out that previous week, only the mean bastard couldn’t keep his mouth shut or his temper burned down and gotten another week. Typical Milkovich charm. 

Ian had gotten a call last night from Mandy, Mickey’s better half…sometimes, saying he was supposed to get out on February 14th. It didn’t occur to Ian what day that was. Only that his not boyfriend, his not anything was getting out. They weren’t special to each other, at least he wasn’t special to Mickey, no one was. The only reason he assumed that, was because they had been meeting up and fucking secretly nearly every day, sometimes twice a day for nearly a year. Even after all that time, they didn’t fuck face to face, they didn’t kiss or hold hands or let anyone know. The one person who caught them had been Frank and Mickey nearly killed him and had broken a piece of Ian’s heart and gotten locked up. 

Ever since Mandy’s call, Ian had been pacing the floor of his room in the Gallagher House. From the door, past the clutter, to his single bed, to the loft bunk bed, past more clutter to Carl’s bed and back again to the door. A total of 15 steps, over and over again. It took hours, felt like days and he was slowly losing it. 

The cell phone was burning a hole through his jeans as he waited for one more call. It was either going to be Mandy saying Mickey was out and where he might be able to find him…might, like fucking ugly ass Angie or trying to sneak beer from Kev, or it would be Mandy saying Mickey’s release had been pushed back again. Ian wasn’t read for any of those calls. Fucking Angie or more juvie time…he didn’t know which was worse. 

“Jesus Ian, still pacing?” Lip asked incredulous as he leaned against the busted door frame. “If the carpet didn’t already have a hole, you would wear it out with that.”

Ian glared at him and kept up the easy pace. It was somewhat calming, and he couldn’t tell Lip why he was so anxious and afraid because Mickey would most likely get tossed back in for trying to kill Lip and his big ass mouth. “Just leave me alone Lip. I’m not in the mood.”

Lip rolled his eyes. “You’re never in the mood to do shit anymore Ian. Please don’t tell me you’re waiting for that towel head to call you.”

Ian managed to get in arms reach on his last step and shoved Lip out the door as hard as he could. “You’re an asshole Lip. Don’t fuckin call him that.” He nearly growled. “And no, not that it’s any of your business but I’m waiting on Mandy to call me.”

Lip rubbed his arm where it hit the door. “Just wrap it man. She’s been around a time or two.” He tossed over his shoulder and walked away.

“Yeah, she told me what you gave her.” He yelled back and Lip actually stopped walking for a second before he barged down the stairs and Ian heard the door slam “Prick.” He chuckled to himself because Lip really did give Mandy the clap last fall. She never spoke to him after that. Just as well, his brother was a dick.

The semi happy mood he was leaning towards took an abrupt turn and a dead stop as the phone started ringing in his pocket. He slammed the door, pushed Carl’s bat under the knob and propped it against the floor as Fiona took the locks off years ago, turned up the radio a little so he couldn’t be heard well and grabbed for the phone. It wasn’t Mandy’s cell number, it was one he’d never seen before but answered automatically anyways.

At first, he could only hear his own heavy breathing as the line clicked, and he could hear his deep breathing, nervous breathing. Mickey. He could never get the sound of Mickey’s harsh breathing out of his mind. That precious sound was burned into his brain, haunted every wet dream he conjured up since they met. It was guaranteed to make him come in under 5 minutes. 

“Hello?” He asked quietly, closing his eyes as Mickey scuffed into his ear in that familiar way that set his blood on fire.

“Gallagher.” 

It was all he said, and Ian was nearly panting into his stolen phone. Mickey only ever called him by his last name. Even when they fucked. Especially when they fucked. “Mick?”

“No shit, anyone else callin you Gallagher like that?” 

Ian’s body tingled from that question. It was nearing territorial. Mickey never did that before. It was odd and empowering and fucking sexy. “No, never. Everyone but you calls me Ian.”

“Good.”

The reply was short, clipped. Just how Mickey always was with him. Usually…mostly. When they fucked, Ian gained a little emotion from the older kid. Mickey only talked with body language and during sex, Ian read him like his favorite book. Caressing the fine, weathered pages like they were gold. Reading each word with such conviction he committed it to his memory. 

“I didn’t think…you never called me before.” He waited and when Mickey didn’t reply with more than a grunt, he continued. “Mandy was supposed to call me.”

“That twat should mind her own business. If I wanted to call you, I would.” Mickey bit back.

Ian grinned from ear to ear, even with the rude name for his best friend and his snappy tone. If he wanted to call, he would…well, he did, and Ian loved it. “What did you wanna talk about?” in his mind, all Ian wanted to talk about was THEM. If there would ever be a THEM. Maybe in a future far away from them. 

“I get out today.”

Ian gulped, arm hair standing on end. “I know. Been counting down the days.”

“Why? You that eager for me to off your dad?”

Ian got that warm fuzzy feeling because if Mickey was so scared their dirty secret was out, he’d have killed Frank. He didn’t, so he wasn’t that worried and that spelled hope for him, for them. “I just thought when you get out…ya know, maybe…” he cut himself off before he said something too mushy. But when Mickey didn’t reply, he went for it. “Uh, I miss y—”

“Shut it Gallagher.” Mickey warned, voice as sharp as glass.

Ian shut it quick and heard Mickey silently cursing himself for being a dick. Mickey did that a lot, even when no one noticed but him. 

“Need to see you.”

That unbelievable flutter sparked in his body. Like he was being lifted by a million fluttering birds, raising him high and higher into the sky, towards that burning sun he always knew would be Mickey for him. Warm and beautiful, a tad dangerous to look at for too long but you just needed it to live. Mickey was the sun to him. 

“I wanna see you too Mick.” His voice came out sweeter than he meant it too but fuck, those words. Mickey needed to see him. Or he thought so until there was an annoyed scuff in his ear.

“Not like that Gallagher. I already told you what this was…” 

Tears instantly welled up but refused to fall until this conversation was finished. Ian gulped down his cry and clenched his fist like Mickey was clenching his heart, and not in the good way.

“Fuck, I gotta go man. Just meet me, okay? You know where. 2 hours.”

The phone clicked once more before it went dead, and Ian didn’t even have a chance to tell Mickey to go fuck himself. There wasn’t a doubt on his mind that he wouldn’t be there. He knew where, it was their spot, even if Mickey refused to admit that. They hadn’t been there in awhile, probably due to the heavy snow of winter that Mickey hated. Man lived in Chicago his whole life and still didn’t like the snow. 

Two hours didn’t seem like a lot of time, but it was. It drug on nearly all day. He’d taken a shower, put on decent clothes, wearing that deep green shirt that he knew Mickey loved on him. It was a little tight now that he filled out from ROTC, but he knew that’s why Mickey liked it. It shows off his newly acquired body, muscles in places he hadn’t had 2 years ago. Mickey never said he liked it. In fact, he said the opposite and told him he looked like a fag. But Ian knew, from the way Mickey couldn’t look away from it, or him. From how much more defensive he’d get each time he wore it. It didn’t help that Mickey demanded he left it on during sex. Ian always took his shirt off, even if Mickey didn’t and if he was asked to keep the shirt on, Ian knew he liked it. 

A random pair of clean jeans and rugged old shoes with a hand-me-down jacket from Lip last year and he still had a little while to go before he had to start walking, about 30 minutes. 15 would get him there but he didn’t want to be early. But staying put made him anxious. So, more pacing. This time in and out of the bathroom. Checking his hair and his breath, even though Mickey didn’t care about either. You actually had to like someone to notice all those small things. Ian noticed all of Mickey’s. 

Five minutes into the never ending 15, Ian rushed down the stairs, taking them 2 at a time until he nearly smacked into Fiona. He muttered an apology but kept moving until she grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, rush much?” 

“Gotta meet Mandy.” He lied and tried to move but her hold tightened. “Please Fi? I gotta talk to her.”

Fiona sighed. “Fine, but I have to work at 11 and need you back to watch Liam. Lip said he can’t.”

Ian nodded, not really caring about her or Lip’s plans. They always had plans. But right now, so did he and he needed to go. “Sure. Later.” He rushed out and nearly ran down the block before she could assign him anything else. Even walking when it was constantly snowing, with 4 inches already on the ground, it was better then staying at home. And he was meeting Mickey…that only made it better, even if he had a weird feeling about how this would play out.

The entire walk to the dugout, he thought about that month that Mickey had been locked up. Ian managed to see him once, said he missed him…like the love sick idiot he was. After that, he hadn’t been allowed to see him. He didn’t know if it was Mickey’s constant trouble making that kept him out or Mickey himself, but he was leaning towards the latter. 

The ball field came into view. Empty and beaten down, covered with snow but it was still theirs. As comforting as it normally was. As he walked to the dug out, he trailed icy fingers against the cool fence, a little mesmerized by the snow that fell from it. So beautiful, icy and unforgiving, a little like Mickey. The shelter of the dugout kept most of the wind at bay, leaving his icy cheeks and chapped lips alone for a minute, but he was alone. No Mickey, no anyone. 

Ian was forced to wait, he didn’t know if Mickey had a phone. He didn’t want to risk calling the house in fear of getting Terry. Mandy…he wasn’t sure if Mickey would want him asking. So, it just left him waiting. Hunched into himself against the back wall, hands stuffed into pockets and his scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He must have waited 15 minutes before he heard it. The sound of a cursing sailor, Mickey. 

Ian grinned and looked around, expecting to see him but he was as alone as he was before. But that cursing continued, it was coming from the thicket of trees next to the field. As the word 'fuck' boomed off the naked trees and hit him at full force, there was no question that Mickey had walked into the woods. As odd as that was. Mickey hated the woods, any nature in general. 

Without thinking ‘why' he jumped back over the locked gate and followed the smaller footsteps into the trees. He looked around every now and then and the scenery remained the same, void of a trash talking South Side asshole. It also felt a little Alfred Hitchcock/Stephen King horror movie too. What kind of person willing walked alone into a frozen block of woods without knowing what who may be inside? An idiot that’s what. 

“Damn it!”

Ian smiled and chased that fear back with a warm chuckle. If Mickey was in there waiting for him, Hitchcock or King could eat a dick, he was following…alone…into the woods…trees…whatever. He kept following those foot prints until a section of the trees had a woodsy bottom. The trees were so thick up top that snow hadn’t fallen in, leaving the ground bare with cracked leaves and a few rocks and Mickey.

He was standing slightly behind the biggest tree. Ian could only see one tattooed hand holding onto the tree as he fought to balance on the high roots that had lifted from the ground a few feet. The cursing he heard, was Mickey nearly slipping each time he moved. Ian stood there silently, half wondering what the fuck he was doing, the other half just watching him. A month was a long ass time to wait to see the only person you could stomach seeing. It didn’t help when that other person didn’t want to see you.

Mickey looked good. Very good. His clothes had always been a little ratty but the ones he had now looked fairly new and hugged his thighs in a way Ian hadn’t seen before. Baggy was more Mickey’s style. It was a blessing and a curse. Easy to get and out of, but it made it hard to admire his body. But now, his thighs looked thicker, more muscled. He was wearing a black hoody with a plaid jacket tossed over it. Even through those, Ian could tell he bulked up some in juvie. His hands were bare, a little pink from the cold and currently occupied. 

Ian couldn’t see what he was doing but when Mickey leaned away from the tree, a secret smile on his face, Ian could tell the moment he would fall. Like it was playing in slow motion in his mind. He ran over quickly and quietly just as Mickey stepped on a patch of ice near the bottom roots. Mickey slipped just as Ian opened his arms and caught him, nearly bridal style. Warmth filled his body at holding Mickey this close again, however Mickey did not feel the same way. The smile turned into fear as he slipped, then anger as Ian caught him. Mickey roughly pushed him away as he got to his feet.

“The fuck? Told you where to meet me. This look like the right place to you?” Mickey raised his eyebrows, voice mean and rough.

Ian huffed and backed up, hands in the air when all he really wanted was to hold him. “Been waitin 20 minutes. Heard you cursin up a damn storm and decided to check.”

“Well, it took longer than I thought.” Mickey huffed silently and looked away. “Fuck, let’s just walk back.”

Mickey started walking, putting the knife away as he passed him, but Ian stayed where he was, looking curiously at that big ass tree and why Mickey might need a knife. Ian moved quickly to the tree, not quick enough because Mickey’s hand caught hold of his jacket before he could climb up.

“Just fuckin leave it Gallagher.” Mickey tugged. “Brought beer for us.”

Us. Ian smiled at the word. He wanted them to be an ‘us'. He acted like he was going to follow, and Mickey seemed extremely relieved and Ian knew he just had to look at what was so important. His mistake was grunting as he tried to get a good grip and Mickey was there to drag him back down. 

“You can’t just let shit go, can ya? Always gotta fuckin push and push til you get your way.” 

Ian jerked out of his grip and pushed him back. He liked Mickey but he’d be damned before he let anyone push him around like that. “The fuck are you worried about, hmm? Hidin shit? Don’t want me to see it?”

Mickey looked away but took a step forward until they were face to face. “Ain’t hiding shit.” He pushed Ian back a step. “Just leave it.”

Instead of pushing back, ultimately away from the tree like Mickey wanted him to, Ian used his height advantage and propelled himself up the tall roots, using the rough bark for balance as Mickey had done and shimmied around.

“Damn it Gallagher! This shit is the reason…” he trailed off as he shook his head. 

Ian paused before he was in place. The bark on that side was warmer. Probably the heat from Mickey standing so close. He would have had to stand there awhile for his warmth to soak in. It just made Ian want to see what he had done. “The reason what?”

“Nothin. Look if you want, I don’t care.”

But Mickey did care, Ian knew it from the beginning. The words he had next died on his tongue as he realized just how nervous, not pissed off, that Mickey was. Now he was pacing, mumbling something he couldn’t hear and rubbing the back of his neck. All his nervous ticks. Whatever it was, had to be worth it. 

Slow steps lead him to see a flatter surface of the tree, shaved of all the rough bark on the outside, the bumps and bruises, rough patches and any sap, to leave it a pretty light brown color. Ian’s mouth dropped to his feet when he saw the rugged heart shape carved into that softer wood. Steady on one side of the heart, like Mickey’s hand had been steady, then jagged on the other side. Maybe from nerves or him getting tired. Carving was hard work. Just the heart made his own patter a little faster, building up a lump in his throat. But what was inside that clichéd heart made him want to weep and smile all at once. 

The letters I.G. + M.M were in the center. Their initials. Carved to perfection, not a single jagged edge or fuck up. Mickey had taken his time doing those before the heart. Ian swallowed past that lump and a shaky hand touched lightly over the letters, tracing them. A silent tear rolled down his cheek as he gave one of those mind melting smiles, he was famous for. 

Mickey Milkovich, South side trash, fag basher and closeted gay man, had taken his sweet ass time carving a damn heart into a tree with his initials plus another boys, because he fucking wanted to. It was easily the best thing he had ever seen, and he was convinced nothing else could top that. Those letters would be there forever. Hidden away in a beautiful wave of trees, kept safe from an uncaring world. He could be with Mickey forever this way.

“Mick…” his voice cracked, unable to swallow past that lump after all. He jumped down from the tree to see Mickey pacing faster, looking so angry. He lightly put a hand on his shoulder and Mickey jerked away like fire burned him.

“Don’t fuckin touch me.”

“Mick, I love it. Like I really fuckin do.” He tried again only for Mickey to glare at him. He was vulnerable like this. Ian knew it scared him. Anything more, scared him and this was so much more because Mickey did this alone.

“Fuck this, I’m outta here.” Mickey spat, red faced and angry at the slew of raw emotions bubbling inside him.

Ian grabbed his jacket, just like Mickey had done to him, and kept him from leaving. “Please don’t Mick. You don’t know how much I love this.” Mickey turned slightly and Ian took his shot. The only chance he might get because Mickey’s guard had dropped a little. He cupped his face and pulled him closer, not wasting a single second before he kissed him hard. No teeth clashing, just chapped lips on smooth full lips. Ian groaned, he couldn’t help it. A year without a single kiss, never feeling what they were capable of and he knew why. His lips, his kiss, so was good that Ian would get addicted…and he was already.

It was over before it started, Mickey pushed him away far too quickly and before Ian could even say anything, a large meaty fist busted him right in the face, the force knocking him back a step. The pain was immediate, clouding up his mind and he nearly thought Mickey broke his nose. Blood started to drip, and Ian tilted his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose and screamed.

“What the fuck was that Ian?!” Mickey barked and rubbed the kiss off with the back of his sleeve. “I fuckin told you what would happen if you ever kissed me.”

Ian nodded, totally missing out on the fact that Mickey had used his first name for the first time since…ever. The pain was too much. Both the hit and the rejection being equally unkind. When the pain lessened enough to open his eyes, he saw how freaked out and scared Mickey looked. Not even angry. Blue eyes cosmically wide, those dark expressive eyebrows dancing on his hair line. He paced quickly, unable to look at him for more than a second before looking away. 

Ian released his nose and hoped it didn’t bleed too badly. He walked closer, risking another punch because he had to. Mickey stopped pacing and just looked at him. “Why did you do it Mick?” His voice was soft, not wanting to scare him away. “I just don’t get it.”

Mickey cleared his throat and Ian could hear the tremble. “It…it’s fuckin Valentine’s Day.”

Ian narrowed his eyes. Was it really Valentine’s Day? He pulled out his phone to see the 14 bobbing up and down on his screen. His favorite holiday and he hadn’t even noticed. “Oh, I guess I didn’t realize it was.”

“Don’t fuckin lie to me Gallagher. Of course you knew it was today. You love all that girlie shit and probably had something gay planned that I’d have to say no to, even if you knew it already.”

“I didn’t know. I was busy counting down days til you got out. I didn’t even realize it was today.” He said quietly. But Mickey was right. He would have done something gay and been shut down. But had he? He realized that he missed half of what was going on. “Wait, why do you give a shit? Why would you carve that Mick?” He stepped closer, crowding him and almost thought he’d get another hit. “Why Mick?”

Mickey glanced up into green, almost watery eyes and said the only thing he felt was true. Anything else was a lie. “I like me better when I’m with you.”

Ian was so shocked, he took a step back. Like love and life had smacked him in the face, hard. It was far from a declaration of love, or even saying he liked him. Or that they should be together. But the carving had shown that. It told him everything. He looked at Mickey, really looked and he was afraid. Blue eyes wide and frantic, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Mick.” He whispered and took back that step until he was once again in his space. His hand moved up shyly to stroke a cold knuckle against Mickey’s cheek. Blue eyes closed for the smallest second and Ian saw it.

Slowly he bent down, letting Mickey track the move in case he wanted to pull away, he didn’t. Ian smiled and closed that space again as they kissed. It was slow, hardly moving at all. It was only when Ian stroked his cheek again, that he felt Mickey kiss him back lightly. Barely. But it was a fucking kiss and he would remember it forever. Before he could deepen it, potentially freaking him out, Ian pulled back and rested their heads together.

They were both nearly panting from just a small kiss. It was all the tension, the raw emotions making their hearts pound. His knuckle kept moving slowly and Mickey didn’t seem to mind. 

“What was that?”

Ian chuckled at the breathless and obvious question. Mickey was so fucking cute he couldn’t stand it. “That was a kiss.”

They were silent for a moment as Ian waited for the reaction. Mickey just seemed confused. Quiet. Like he was searching every part in his mind to figure out what happened. But then Mickey spoke, and his heart clenched.

“I don’t like it.” He said flatly.

Ian was about to move, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He needed a different answer from Mickey. His shoulders sagged a little, unable to keep it from happening until blue eyes looked up to catch his own, looking at him like Ian had never seen before.

“Do it again.”

Ian smiled, his precious heart all fluttery again. This kiss would be better than the other two. They both knew it. Ian turned properly to stand between Mickey’s feet, not at all bothered by the cold anymore, cupped his handsome face, stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones as he looked at him. Finally. In the eyes, not the back of his head or tucked into his neck as they moved together. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” The words were out before he could stop them but Mickey only blushed and gave a little smile. Ian smiled back, traced his thumb over those full lips and leaned down. Mickey’s eyes closed before his and that is what should have happened. Ian kissed him softly, hearing that sweet gasp again. After a moment, he pulled back a little, just to kiss again. And again and again. A little deeper each time had Ian vibrating in his own skin. Melting at the way Mickey kissed him back. His rough tattooed hands on his sides, gripping at his jacket. 

Ian slowly pulled back, never wanting to be away from that feeling ever again. Mickey’s eyes seemed as heavy as his when they opened and Ian melted, leaning together again. “Fuck, that was so worth a punch in the face.”

Mickey laughed, actually laughed and Ian nearly died at the sweet sound and the contagious smile. “Thank you.”

The smile slipped from bright to dim and Mickey felt his face flame up as it always did around Ian. “I’m not really…” he huffed. “Good at this shit. But I thought a lot about you when I was gone.” Deep breath. “And I meant it. I like me better when I’m with you.”

That was it. He was gone. Either melted into the cold ground in a puddle or flying high as a kite in the sky. But he was gone for this guy. Totally in love with him. “I like me better that way too Mick.” He kissed him again, slowly. Or it started out that way. When Mickey made that little rumbling sound deep in his chest, it changed everything. His tongue slowly came out to swipe against Mickey’s lower lip, begging to get inside. Fearing that he wouldn’t, Ian backed off until Mickey’s tongue chased after him.

He broke the kiss with a deep growl that had Mickey’s eyes flashing. “Holy fuck.” Ian mumbled before kissing him fully. Eagerly sliding his tongue into Mickey’s mouth, against his own tongue. Eager but shy, and Ian knew Mickey had never kissed anyone before. Knowing that just made it hotter, better. More special somehow. 

Mickey lightly stepped back, a smile on his lips and twinkling eyes. “No need to rush Gallagher.”

Ian nodded and licked over his lips, knowing damn well Mickey was watching it. “Yeah, no. Of course not.” He smiled back but didn’t step away. Near the edge of a tree, on a stump that had been cut down not too long ago, sat a large pizza and a 6 pack of beer wedged into the snow. He looked at Mickey with wide eyes and gripped his neck tight when he tried to pull away, looking bashful. “Jesus Christ. You’re setting the bar for dates pretty high Mick.”

“Not a date Ian. Just food.” He shoved at him halfheartedly. 

Ian wrapped his other arm around him, unwilling to move that one hand from his face, gently tracing the line of his jaw and his ear. “Totally a date Mick. Sweet gifts, many kisses, food and booze. A date.” He kissed his temple.

“Fuck.” Mickey cursed and tried to pull away, but Ian wouldn’t let up and Mickey couldn’t fight the smile he had because of it. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” He whispered in his ear and kissed his temple again. He smiled when Mickey leaned into him as they walked towards the food. He stopped just short of it all and stared down at him with an open mouth.

“Jesus, what now?” Mickey shifted uncomfortably.

Ian opened and closed his mouth like a fish until Mickey elbowed him. “You called me Ian.” He said in disbelief. 

Mickey snorted and pushed away finally, moving to stand not so closely in front of him. “Well, you called me Mick.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. But Ian had never said that before. It was always just Mickey.

Ian groaned, wrapped a large hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close. He kissed him hard and fast, sliding his tongue in for a quick taste before Mickey could react and moved back just as quickly. “Say it again Mick, please.”

Mickey laughed, unable to hide the smile. “No. Just eat.”

Ian whined and kissed him again and again. No tongue, just fast kisses that left Mickey swaying on his feet. “Just one more time. Please.”

Mickey shook his head in disbelief but couldn't shake that annoying smile. He tried his best to bark the words but there was no heat behind it whatsoever. “Okay Ian, eat your fucking food.”

Ian tingled from the inside out. His grin was too big to try and hide it and it only made Mickey smile wider. “Happy Valentine’s Day Mick.”

This time, Mickey was the one who surged up and attached their lips quickly, leaving Ian with wide green eyes. “Fuck off.” He said with no heat in his voice.

Ian grinned and did as he was told, he sat next to Mickey on the cold ground, eating cold pizza with frozen beer, he realized that THIS was Mickey’s version of hearts and flowers on that special day and he couldn’t have been happier. One hand resting on Mickey’s thigh and grins on their faces, sharing sweet smiles, chuckling over everything and nothing and it was fucking perfect.


End file.
